


Brotherly Love Transformed

by magikhands



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Dom/sub, M/M, Sexual Coercion, Slavery, Torture, minibang2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 21:36:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2522627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magikhands/pseuds/magikhands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time frame: Toward the end of Season 5. "The French Mistake" never happened.<br/>Sam and Dean are being hounded by both angels and demons to say yes to Lucifer and Michael. To start Armageddon. For those not wanting the war, they have another option…send Dean and Sam to another reality. They find themselves slaves to Crowley, Meg their only ally, and their relationship more than brotherly. The Winchesters will do whatever they have to in order to get back to their reality, no matter the cost.<br/>Written for the Sam/Dean Mini-Bang Challenge 2014 at samdean-otp</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Supernatural or its characters. I only borrow them for my pervy stories.  
> A special thank you to angelus2hot for the awesome artwork!

 

Sam looked over at his brother and wondered how in the hell they were going to get out of this mess. They were weaponless, hands cuffed, not tied, behind their backs, and surrounded by a mix of both angels and demons. Sam licked at his busted lip. Dean had blood running from his nose. They’d both wake with multiple aches and bruises on their bodies after this fight.

“Look, we weren’t looking for trouble,” Dean tried to reason with the angel they stood in front of.

The woman, dressed in a green waitress uniform smiled. “No, but we were looking for you.” She reached out and took Dean’s chin in her hand. “Dean and Sam Winchester. The vessels for Michael and Lucifer. The bringers of the Apocalypse.”

Sam resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. He was so tired of hearing that the Winchester brothers would bring about the end of the world. It wasn’t something they intentionally wanted to do. Why won’t everyone just let them be?

“Go ahead and do what you gotta do to us. Kill us, but something more powerful than you will bring us back. Wouldn’t be the first time. No matter what you do, neither of us are saying yes to those bastards, so your plan is pretty futile.” Sam watched Dean spit out brave words, but they both knew they were each other’s weakness and their enemies were acutely aware as well. Sometimes it was just a matter of bullshitting them to get out of trouble.

“Killing you isn’t quite what we had in mind.” The waitress smiled, her thumb brushing across the bottom of Dean’s lip in an intimate gesture. He sneered and pulled from her grasp. “Get them in place.”

A man with black eyes pushed Sam forward. When he only took a step forward the demon put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and guided him further into the room where a large sigil was painted on the floor. It looked similar to a devil’s trap, but the symbols were all wrong. Sam tried to study the markings, committing them to memory so he could decipher them later…if they lived through this.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered, being pushed into the room by another man, whose eyes weren’t black. When they stood side by side again they were both pushed to their knees in the middle of the sigil.

Another woman, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, soccer mom style, flashed black eyes as she approached with a bowl in one hand, the demon knife they’d gotten from Ruby in the other.

“What are you doing?” Sam finally asked, his eyes frantically trying to find some sort of help.

The waitress took her angel blade and used its tip to slice into her palm. Blood tinged with blue dripped into the bowl the soccer mom held. Once the wound closed, she took the bowl and watched as the demon sliced her palm with the demon knife. That blood, tinged with black smoke flowed into the bowl as well.

Soccer mom demon started chanting, taking back the bowl. She stood in front of Sam, closed her eyes, and continued the chant. The demon behind him grabbed hold of his hair & jerked his head back.

“Wait, stop. What are you doing?” Sam resisted the hold on him, but the demon was stronger.

“Don’t you…” The man behind Dean wrapped one hand around his brother’s chin while the other hand pushed back on his forehead to put it in the same position.

“We are a group that is quite happy with the way things are,” said the waitress. “We don’t interfere in human lives while demons do as they wish on Earth. But since you two came on scene, all hell has broken loose…literally.”

She paused as soccer mom opened her eyes, dipped her fingers in the blood, and drew a symbol on Sam’s forehead. She then moved to Dean and did the same. Her voice rose with the chant as they all backed out of the sigil leaving only Sam and Dean.

“No Dean and Sam Winchester, no war,” waitress said with a smile.

“Someone will only bring us back,” Sam reiterated Dean’s earlier statement, but his gut tightened with fear. This was different. A spell that included blood from both angel and demon. He’d never heard of such a thing and could only decipher a couple of the words soccer mom was using. Enochian.

“Not if we send you out of this realm.”

The world suddenly spun and pain invaded Sam’s head. His eyes closed and he grunted against the building agony. Finally unable to take it any longer, Sam screamed until all went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean thought he was going to puke. This wasn’t like when Cas transported them in an instant. His stomach lurched even as the piercing pain in his head dulled to an ache, but something was different. In just a matter of five seconds his senses knew he was no longer in the warehouse bound, surrounded by a group of angels and demons bent on making sure no Armageddon war ever began. The sounds and smells that swarmed around him were only reminiscent to one place…

Hell!

Dean’s eyes snapped open just in time to see a whip flick across Sam’s back. His body jerked and he cried out as fresh blood oozed from the torn flesh. That was no ordinary play toy as the light reflected off the metal embedded at the end of each leather strip. Cat o’ nine tails?

“Sam!” Dean took a step forward only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Just because you’re Crowley’s bitch doesn’t mean your pet is.”

Dean looked over his shoulder to see a burly man with pure black eyes holding him back. He knew the man, or rather the demon’s name, Uzza. He was the demon that made sure a slave’s punishment was carried out. Dean glared and had a come back ready for being called Crowley’s bitch, but a quick flare of pain swept through his head again as knowledge from his life and this…new reality merged.

“What the…” his words died as he witnessed another stroke of the whip against his brother’s back again, followed by feminine laughter at the pain she inflicted.

Dean clenched his jaw, forced his body to remain still as his brain caught up. His eyes stayed glued to Sam’s trembling, sweat coated body. His wrists were bound by metal shackles and pulled taunt away from his body above his head. His head hung low, long hair blocking the view of his face from Dean.

Was this his brother Sam or … No, he wouldn’t think of being here by himself. The spell had been performed on them both, so it was only logical that _his_ brother occupied the Sam being whipped.

“Enough,” Dean whispered as another strike made Sam’s body twitch and he cried out again. It was clear by the wounds on Sam’s back that his tormentor had been at this for several minutes. His gaze finally sought the person holding the whip.

Only the knowledge still slowly seeping into his mind kept him from attacking the one demon he wanted to kill over and over again. The dark haired beauty that had lured Sam into drinking demon blood and tricked him into breaking the final seal by killing Lilith, which set Lucifer free and started this entire year of hiding from both sides of the war.

“Enough!” Dean finally yelled, stopping Ruby just before she flicked the whip toward Sam again.

She glared at him, and it was clear she was ready to use the whip on him as well when Uzza spoke.

“The whelp is right. You’ve taken your pound of flesh. I’m sure Lilith will be pleased that the bargain has been fulfilled.”

Clearly Ruby wasn’t happy about the interruption, but she said nothing more until she approached Sam and roughly jerked his head back by his hair.

“Next time your brother won’t be able to save you.” Her head bent forward and bit his throat hard enough to make Sam wince.

Dean tried to close the distance and knock the bitch off his brother, but once again Uzza stopped him by softly saying, “Not yet.”

Surprisingly Sam laughed. “I won’t need his help kicking your ass, bitch.”

Ruby gave him a confused look until anger seeped into her expression. Quick as lightening she grabbed his neck and squeezed so hard he wheezed. “This _bitch_ will teach you about respect, slave.”

With a flick of his wrist Uzza tossed Ruby away from Sam. She screamed and tried to push off the wall she landed against. If this whole situation wasn’t so screwed up Dean would have been amused.

“You petitioned Lilith for his punishment. You got it. Now leave.” Uzza’s tone carried one of command.

“Did you not hear how that slave spoke to me?” Ruby struggled against the invisible hold. Apparently Uzza held more power than Ruby.

“Human slaves are at times unpredictable, which is what makes them so amusing, wouldn’t you agree? But this one is very aware of the price to be paid for his lack of discipline of his mouth.”

“Fine,” Ruby ground out. “But I’m not leaving until I see it.”

“No,” Dean shook his head and tried to argue, but one look from Uzza had his mouth snapping shut. Everything in him cried out to defend his brother. To kick anyone’s ass who dare to hurt him. But this other knowledge told him it would be worse if he rebelled.

He watched helpless as Uzza went to a cabinet to withdraw a device from one of the drawers. Sam had yet to look toward Dean, remaining silent and still. It killed Dean to see the bruises on Sam’s ribs and the whip wounds bright with blood criss-crossing his back.  It took every ounce of control not to retaliate.

Uzza, though more gentle than Ruby, lifted his head by pushing up on his chin rather than jerking his hair. “Open your mouth.” Sam did so without a fight.

Bile rose from Dean’s stomach and burned his throat as Uzza tightened straps around Sam’s head to keep the gag in. There was a thick piece of leather that covered Sam’s lips. Uzza attached a hose to the corner of the gag and used the ball at the end to start pumping. From the strange knowledge of this world Dean knew that inside Sam’s mouth the gag was expanding, filling his mouth completely, making his jaw open wide against the tight straps. It was a painful experience, but a punishment often used for slaves who spoke out of turn.

“Happy?” Uzza removed the hose and tightened the chin strap before snapping a lock into place, making Sam grunt with pain.

Ruby scowled but nodded before walking out of the room without even a glance back.

Uzza shook his head, his chest heaving a sigh. “You two make me wish I was back in Hell again.”

Suddenly able to move, Dean rushed to Sam. Only when he cupped his face in his hands did Sam look up. Tears flowed from his eyes and his body went limp, his weight fully on his shackled wrists.

Uzza released the shackles and Dean caught Sam in his arms. “It’s okay. I’m here, Sammy.”  He brushed the hair from his face and tried to remove the straps.

“Uh-uh. The gag stays on for four hours,” Uzza put his hand over Dean’s.

“The hell it will.”

Dean’s head whipped to the side from Uzza’s backhand. Blood flowed from the fresh cut on his lip. Once again grinding his teeth, Dean bowed his head in submission. His head ached with confusion as he mentally fought to keep himself alive, yet allow this reality’s Dean to give him all he needed to survive this strange world they’d been sent to.

“Get him out of here before I decide to punish your ass as well.” Uzza walked away. “The key will be sent to your room when time is up.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Sam thought he knew pain. He was wrong. His back felt on fire, as if acid had been on the tip of the whip. The gag forced his jaw open wider than comfortable while the straps bit into his skin. It was nearly unbearable for Sam, but the Sam he replaced had apparently experienced much worse in the past if some of the memories seeping in were any indication.

Dean helped him down a series of halls until they come to a door that looked like so many others they passed. Sam pushed away and stumbled into the room once the door opened. The room looked familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The feeling was disorienting.

“We need a knife to cut that damn thing off.” Dean started rifling through drawers and cabinets.

Sam didn’t wait for Dean, knowing exactly what he needed. This entire download of knowledge about a separate reality had him off balance. It made him dizzy and his head throb. Still, he walked directly to the bed and reached beneath the mattress. His fingers knew where to go without seeing. In a small slit of the material he found the small pieces of metal hidden there.

He quickly went to the mirror and used one of the smaller pieces to press in the area where the pump connected to the gag. Immediately the pressure relieved as the air was released. Sam grunted at the reprieve.

His noise got Dean’s attention. With raised eyebrow, he approached Sam. “You’ve done this before.” The statement was said with uncertainty

Sam nodded as he handed Dean what he’d used along with the slightly longer piece of metal. Turning slightly he held on to the small lock Uzza had placed on the straps.

“Gotcha.” Dean went to work on the lock using the pieces like lock picks.

The Sam of this reality had used this technique before to relieve the pressure from this specific gag, yet he had never learned to pick the lock. The differences between the two worlds were astounding to Sam. The minute the lock clicked open Dean quickly unbuckled the straps before gently removing the gag.

“Damn it,” Sam groaned and winced as he rubbed his jaw.

Dean palmed Sam’s face, eyes locked. “Tell me you are my Sammy.”

“If it’s the one who just got flashed into another reality by a group of demons and angels, I’m him.”

Dean lowered his head so their foreheads touched and let out a harsh breath. “What the hell, Sam? What is this place?”

Sam reached up to pat his brother’s cheek with his hand, but found himself mirroring Dean. It shocked him when his thumb gently stroked Dean’s cheek like a lover. Just the comfort of the touch made him relax. Like files being downloaded onto a disk, his mind filled suddenly with images and information about the Sam he’d replaced.

With a soft gasp, Sam pulled away and diverted his attention elsewhere, his hand on the wall to hold him steady, not ready to see if this new revelation had shed light in Dean’s mind as well. He wanted to deny it, but again, like he knew where the pieces of metal were hidden, he knew what he’d seen to be true.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just feels like my back is on fire.” Sam shifted his body trying to see his back in the mirror. He wore just a pair of jeans, no shoes, no shirt. Dean was dressed the same only he wore a pair of boots.

“Told you that bitch was crazy,” Dean mumbled as he walked past Sam and went to the small bathroom attached to their room.

Sam didn’t have the energy to agree. He was still trying to shove those troubling images from his mind. He needed something to keep his mind busy, focused on something other than the relationship with his brother.

“So, this reality, it seems as if there was already a war between angels and demons.”

“And the demons basically won.” Dean reappeared with a jar and washcloth in hand. “Lay on the bed so I can put this on your back. It’ll help you heal faster.” Dean stopped in his tracks looking confused.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Apparently whatever spell they used allowed us to merge with this reality’s Sam and Dean.” He walked to the bed, the only one in the room, and laid down on his stomach, his chin resting on his crossed arms.

“These are not our bodies, Sam. There are scars on your body that you don’t have in our world. So did just our minds cross realities? Are our bodies back in our world laying empty? And what happened to the Dean and Sam from here?”

“I don’t know.” Sam wished he had more answers, but in all honesty, the pain from the beating and his humiliation rode hard on him.

“This isn’t good, Sammy. If Michael and Lucifer find our bodies, empty of souls…” Dean gently cleaned the blood from his back, making Sam clench his jaw when he came too close to a wound.

“Yeah, I know. I’m not sure what has happened. But if what that angel said is true, then they would make sure our bodies aren’t found.”

“They could destroy them.”

Sam thought that as well. No bodies would mean they couldn’t get back to their real lives. They would be stuck in this world. Sam wasn’t sure he could handle it, especially if he was expected to still be the same Sam from this reality.

“What about Cas?” Sam asked, his mind racing. He winced, unable to stop his body from jerking when Dean started smoothing whatever was in the jar around his wounds. The scent of eucalyptus mixed with other pleasant scents drifted to his nose.

“Sorry.” Dean gently continued his ministrations. “What about Cas?”

“Well, what if he’s around in this world? We can pray to him,” Sam suggested. He tried to actually focus on the pain rather than the sudden arousal he felt from Dean’s gentle care.

“We don’t know that, and even if he is, there’s no telling what he’s like here. I mean look at Ruby.”

Sam grimaced at the thought of her. His pride still stung that she’d duped him so thoroughly.

“In our world, she was a manipulative bitch and hot for you. Here, she’s here for your blood and…well, from the fun she looked to be having tonight, still hot for you.” Dean chuckled.

Sam glared. “Not funny.”

“Sorry. Do you even know what you did to warrant her punishment?”

After a moment of thought Sam shook his head. “No clue, but I’m sure I pissed her off pretty bad for that kind of punishment.” He winced again as he shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed.

“Look, why don’t you get some rest, let your body heal.” He wiped his hand on the cloth.

Dean moved to stand, but Sam grabbed his hand. “Don’t leave me.” He wasn’t sure why, but Sam didn’t want to be alone right now. He needed his brother close.

Dean settled back on the bed and laid a hand on Sam’s head. “I won’t.”

Sam nodded, closing his eyes, hoping he’d soon wake from this nightmare.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Dean watched over Sam as he slept. Even though he was tired, he didn’t want to sleep just yet. After Sam drifted off, he washed up and found a t-shirt to put on, but kicked off his boots. The silence of the room was disturbed only by Sam’s light snoring. The sound strangely comforted Dean as he took in his surroundings, the knowledge of this world still being dumped into his mind.

He knew he and Sam shared this room…and its single bed. It had been their home for several years now. Much better than the room they grew up in since they were brought here at the age of six and ten. That was little more than a cell with no windows and they had no freedom.

Dean let out a long breath, still having trouble believing what had happened to them. Cas has twice sent him back in time, but another reality? Surely this was a nightmare straight from a perverted version of Twilight Zone. He wanted to pinch himself, yell, somehow wake himself up, but he also knew this was too real for it to be just a dream. And there had been no Djinns around either. This was also why Dean stayed in the chair near the bed, hands under his thighs to prevent him from reaching out to touch his brother or crawling into the bed with him.

This was very real and he was in denial.

Yes, that would be the best route to go. If he didn’t acknowledge what he felt, it wasn’t an issue.

His gaze slid down Sam’s back, knowing exactly when and how he received each of those scars. They healed quickly in this world, but they had no angel to take away all the evidence of their pain here. No one to watch over them, no one to rescue them.

Since the day their parents were killed it had always been Dean and Sam against the world. Dean watching over his younger brother, doing whatever it took to protect him. Guess some things never change no matter what world they lived in.

And this was a strange world. Demons could possess most humans at any time. With one exception, those created as angel vessels. There were only certain bloodlines angels could possess, but then they were limited by having to gain permission to do so. This limitation was what led the dick angels to lose the battle. However, the small portion of the earth the angels held was being used to house humans and encourage the needed bloodlines by strategic procreations, at least that’s what he’d been told.

As in their own world, he and Sam were from a specifically strong bloodline. Though demons could not possess them, they used these captured humans as slaves and as a way to keep the angels’ numbers controlled.

Dean reached up to touch the thick metal collar on his throat. Sam had one identical. These let their Master, who happened to be Crowley of all people, know exactly where they were, while keeping them inside the palace walls since the collars worked like those invisible dog fences. You crossed certain barriers and the pain could kill you. These collars are what gave them what little freedom they had.

A wave of anger swelled in Dean as all of this information settled in his brain. His first reaction was to attack and fight, but logic told him it wouldn’t do them any good. This reality’s Dean had rebelled in the early years and all it got them was pain and suffering. Mostly for Sam. So he’d long ago committed to making them the best life they could have given the situation.

However, they had to find a way back. Somehow, some way, he and Sam would get back to their correct reality and kick some angel and demon ass when they did.

A knock on the door startled Dean from his thoughts. He rose, then hesitated just a moment as he took a step closer to Sam. His fingers wanted to … no, instead Dean walked to the door and opened it. Before him stood a scrawny human man, pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes that were slightly sunken in. Uzza’s human slave, Taren.

A growl erupted from Dean’s throat, instantly disliking this weasel. Apparently with good reason since the little snot was a snitch.

“What do you want?”

Taren held up a key.

Dean reached for it, but Taren palmed it and smiled.

“Give me the damn key,” Dean growled, yet suspicious.

“I need to remove the gag.”

“To hell you will.” Dean took a step forward, grabbed Taren’s wrist and twisted it. His fingers opened letting the key fall into Dean’s waiting hand.

Taren’s smile vanished. “But…but I’m supposed to…” he whimpered, holding his hurt wrist.

“No one touches him.” Dean backed away in order to slam the door in Taren’s face.

“Who was that?” Sam asked quietly, now sitting up in bed. His hair was tousled and he looked half asleep.

Dean’s gaze wandered over his shirtless torso and felt a stirring of… Dean cleared his throat, forcing all those thoughts away. He held up the key.

“Oh.”

Dean walked across the room and grabbed the retched gag. He felt Sam watching every move he made. Had he realized yet how the relationship between this Dean and Sam had turned? It made him feel very uncomfortable, yet at the same time…nope, not going there.

Deny, deny, deny. They would find a way back from this hell before anything happened that wasn’t supposed to.

Dean opened the door a few minutes later, threw both the key and gag at Taren. Without a word, he closed the door and leaned back on it, his eyes closing.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’m just completely weirded out by all of this.” He opened his eyes as he ran a hand over his face. He needed some sleep.

Sam looked down and nodded. Silence settled over the room again.

A knock on the door made Dean jump. He yanked it open, ready to yell at Taren, but he wasn’t there. Instead, a beautiful blonde woman, dressed in a tight leather outfit stood before him. Her breasts were pushed up so high that they were about to spill out of the top. Her lips were painted black and she wore thick black liner on her eyes. She stood with her hands on her hips.

“Your Master wants you to appear before him in six hours.” Her tone of voice as expressionless as her face. She was just a messenger.

His Master? Crowley. Damn it. Would the crappiness of this day ever end? “Yeah, okay.”

Her gaze swooped over him and there was as light twitch to the corner of one of her lips. “I’d actually get some rest if I were you instead of playing with your pet. You’ll need it.” She sauntered off down the hall. Dean couldn’t help but watch the sway of her tight ass. Though he appreciated the sight and could picture a hundred different ways to make her scream in pleasure, he felt not an ounce of lust for her.

Dean swallowed hard, shook his head, and shut the door. No lock. Damn. “Go back to sleep, Sam. I’ll take the chair.”

“Dean, this bed is huge. It’s big enough…”

Dean had already grabbed a pillow from the bed and was settling in the chair. “No,” he snapped. “It’s all right. I don’t want to hit your back, that’s all,” his tone softer.

Sam looked at him with those freaking puppy dog eyes, but Dean didn’t relent. “Let’s get some shut eye and see what this world has waiting for us.” He closed his eyes, but not before he watched Sam lie back down and try to get comfortable without lying on his back.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Sam woke to the sound of water running. He shifted his body and discovered there was only a small amount of discomfort left in his back. The wounds seemed to have healed quickly. He wished he healed that fast in his reality.

Turning his head, as expected the chair sat empty.

Gingerly, Sam pushed his body up to sit on the side of the bed just as Dean walked out of the bathroom.

“How are you feeling?” Dean wore just a towel about his waist, and held another rubbing at his head.

“Better.” His stomach growled. “Hungry.” In more ways than one, but it wasn’t something he was going to voice.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. Me too. But I gotta go see what Crowley wants, so I’ll make sure you get some food.” He grabbed a pair of jeans from a drawer, paused as if he was thinking about his choice, then with a slight shake of his head, he pushed the drawer shut. “You think you can remember things about that spell?”

Sam nodded, but still felt out of sort. Though his mind was clearer than before, it was still odd having two sets of memories floating around.

“Apparently, there’s a lot of people around here that don’t quite respect you, so I think it would be best if you stayed in the room and write down everything you can remember about the symbols and spell.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the other voice that belonged here told him Dean was right. Despite being human, Dean had somehow earned respect in this land. Whether it was from fear of messing with Crowley’s favorite, or because of what he did for Crowley, one could only guess, but Sam realized he was just a pet. A belonging that could be used and abused, no matter who he belonged to. He was a human slave with little worth in this world. Truly safe only with his brother or in this room. His life really sucked right now.

So he just watched Dean walk back into the bathroom to dress. Sam stayed quiet as he watched his brother return to the chair and put on the shoes he’d dumped there hours earlier. The silence was heavy with unspoken questions.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Stay out of trouble.” Dean left without a look back.

Sam rubbed his hands over his face trying to wipe away this horrible experience, the things he felt, as well as the information that seemed to have downloaded into his brain.

Getting up, stretching the soreness from his body, Sam went to the bathroom, thinking a shower would make him feel better. Stripping from the jeans, he turned on the shower and waited for the heat. Though the whip wounds were mostly healed, they stung as water streamed down his back.

Sam braced his arms on the wall in front of him, ducking his head under the stream of water. He tried to empty his mind, forget just for a moment all that has happened. There was no demon that killed his mother or Jessica. No monsters to hunt. No demons trying to kill them. Or angels for that matter. No destiny.

Just he and Dean.

Fingertips softly swept over his shoulders and down his arms. Goosebumps raised as they slowly traveled back upward. Sam closed his eyes as he felt the heat of another body come behind him. He didn’t turn around, but stood perfectly still, feeling every touch, every sensation coursing through his body.

The right hand strayed down Sam’s back, slipping along his ribs, then downward to rest on his hip. Those magical fingertips lightly caresses his skin. The left hand snaked upward over his neck until the fingers threaded through Sam’s hair. He gasped as the fingers on his hip dug in and the hand in his hair tightened before jerking his head back. The pain caused a rush of blood go to his cock.

“Stay.” The single word was grunted by his ear.

The body pressed tightly to Sam’s, hardness fitting perfect along his form. Sam slightly spread his feet apart so the erection pressing on his thighs could slip between them to tickle his balls. Hot kisses ran down his neck as the right hand slid closer to his dick.

Sam’s breath quickened as he anticipated the touch. Ached for it. A groan of pure pleasure escaped as the hand wrapped itself around Sam’s throbbing cock. The body pressed closer as the right hand stroked him toward pleasure and the left hand pulled his head back and more to the left so teeth could nip harshly on his shoulder, drawing pain into the mix.

“Yes,” Sam gasped as his body tried to decide which sensation it craved more.

The right hand tightened on Sam more and a tongue found its way to the bite mark. Again, pain and pleasure sending his body further into that fierce hunger.

“More,” Sam begged as his hips began a rhythm with the hand’s stroking. He was so close. His need building and building, just waiting for that perfect blend.

Teeth bit hard on his shoulder just as a finger straightened and softly ran over his hard balls. Sam cried out as release claimed him.

Panting, feeling weak in the knees, and no longer feeling the cooler water temperature, Sam dropped down to his knees, turned and eagerly sucked the thick waiting dick into his mouth. He moaned at the delicious taste of it, letting the weight settle on his tongue. He opened his jaw slightly wider, letting the tip slide further back into his throat. It took him years to finally block his gag reflex, knowing it was well appreciated.

“Sammy.” His name a course whisper that made Sam look up into Dean’s face.

Sam’s eyes snapped open and he stumbled back. Thick semen coated his hand from masturbating. The water had long turned cold making him shiver. What he saw wasn’t a fantasy, but a memory.

He and Dean were lovers in this world.

The full acknowledgement of it made Sam light headed. He could no longer deny the images that flashed through is mind, or the emotions he felt when he looked at his brother. How in the hell had that happened?

“We are so fucked.”

^^^^

When Sam finally made it out of the bathroom he dug around a drawer of leather and denim until he found a pair of soft sleeper bottoms. He’d also donned one of the few t-shirts he found in another drawer. He wanted to search for some underwear, but he knew it would be useless, none would be found.

Though he felt better, Sam couldn’t get those damn images out of his head. It wasn’t right. They were brothers, but then in this world, this was how they kept alive and Dean protected him.

A knock at the door took him from the unsettling thoughts.

“Everything is almost ready, Sam,” the dark haired woman spoke softly and looked to her left then right before looking up at him. She held a covered plate in her hand. “I’ve…”

“Meg,” Sam snarled. Since Dean dragged him back into hunting Meg Masters, aka demon bitch, had been a thorn in their side. Popping up to cause havoc on their lives. Apparently she was doing the same in this reality.

Meg stared at him. “Sam?”

He growled and tried to slam the door.

Her hand stopped the door’s movement. “What the hell?”

“You bitch…” Sam winced as his head suddenly ached.

“You’re not Sam.” Before he could respond she shoved him back, stepped into the room, the door slamming behind her.

“Meg… Sam never finished as his body was flung against the nearest wall, knocking the breath from him and not helping with the pain already in his back.

“Who are you?” Meg put the plate down then stood close to him, her black eyes taking him in.

“Sam Winchester, bitch,” he managed through clenched teeth as the force holding him in place increased, making it hard to breathe.

“No, you’re not.” She grasped his chin in her hand and turned his head to the right and then the left. “Same body, but you’re not _my_ Sam.”

Images of Meg and information flashed through Sam’s mind. She wore a collar just as he and Dean. She too was one of Crowley’s slaves. Punishment for siding with the previous ruler, her father, Azazel. Rather than kill her after capturing her five years after her escape from him, he made her the personal slave to his favorite torturer…Dean. During that time she befriended them and gained their trust. Sam withheld the grimace as he saw images of her very intimate with both he and Dean…sometimes at the same time.

Meg stepped away, allowing him to drop to the floor none too gently. “Damn it. I don’t need this shit.” She reached out, grabbed hold of Sam’s hair and jerked his head back. Sam seriously needed to think about cutting his hair. “Where’s my Sam? What in the name of the unholy happened?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, meeting her gaze defiantly. He tried to dislodge her grip on his hair, but she caught his arm.

“All that work and the plan is screwed,” she mumbled, shaking her head, then released her hold on him with a few curses.

“What plan?” Sam wanted to get up, but wasn’t in the mood for another toss around the room. Unfortunately, he felt intrigued by their peculiar relationship. Just because they were friends didn’t mean she wouldn’t hurt him.  He’d once thought Ruby was a friend. Was Meg his Ruby in this world? This place was really giving him a headache every time he thought he’d figured it out.

“To get you two nimble nuts out of here.”

This got Sam’s attention. “Wait, what? And go where?”

Meg looked at him. “To the angels, of course.” She leaned closer. “What happened to my submissive boy? The one who has never snarled like an animal at me or called me a bitch. Dean, I can understand, but my Sam…” she shook her head.

Sam shrugged. Great, that more than confirmed he was a wuss here. “I don’t know really. I know some of the things he knew, but we’re not from this reality.” Why was he telling her all of this? But then, it was probably this world’s Sam trying to come out. “We were sent here by a faction of angels and demons to get us out of the way. We have some of the memories and knowledge of this reality, as well as all of our own.”

A smirk tilted Meg’s lips. “I’m sure that’s a wild ride in your brain.”

He let out a short laugh. “You have no idea.”

“So my Dean is gone as well?” Meg backed away and brushed a loose hair from her forehead.

“Yeah.”

“Crap. I’ll be back later.” She turned for the door.

“Wait.” Sam pushed off the floor but stayed by the wall. He didn’t’ need another slam to his back. “These angels…do you think they could send us back?”

“I don’t know.” Meg left the room leaving Sam feeling even more bewildered and conflicted than before. He wasn’t sure if escaping from a palace of demons into the hands of angels was a better situation for them.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Dean waited for his breath to slow. Splattered blood dried on his torso and clothing, but he’d long since lost any squeamish feelings for that fluid. The screams had finally subsided and the information needed from the strapped down angel passed on. His stomach threatened to lurch, but Dean swallowed hard to keep the bile down.

It took a lot of effort and control to keep the flashes of his time in Hell at bay during his interrogation. The seeping images from this world didn’t help much either due to the distraction they presented. He’d discovered the reason Crowley favored him. Torture was an activity he’d excelled in here, as he had in Hell.

Clapping broke the heavy silence. “I knew if anyone could get an angel to speak, it would be you.” Crowley came out of the shadows. “Well done, Dean.”

Dean straightened and held back from taking the sharp instrument in his hand and going after the smug demon.

“How’s your pet? Is he all healed up from Ruby’s aberrant loving?”

Dean’s top lip twitched into a snarl, but quickly stopped. “He’s fine.”

Crowley smiled. “Good. There will be no problem in helping me entertain my guests tonight.”

“Entertain?” Just as he asked, Dean realized exactly what the demon wanted. It wasn’t the first time he and Sam were the main attraction for Crowley’s deviant gatherings. He clenched his teeth and tried to keep his breathing normal.

“You and your pet give a spectacular show and highly requested.”

Dean nodded, scared of telling him to shove it if he spoke.

“Very good.” Crowley reached out and gently wiped a speck of blood from his cheek and tasted it. “Oh, and leather and steel would be nice as well,” he added as he walked away.

^^^^

“We are so screwed,” Dean said as he walked into the room. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed Meg leaning against the wall. “Meg,” he growled.

“Yeah, yeah, you hate me. I’m a bitch. But search through that cluttered brain and you’ll see that I’m a friend.” She gave him a smirk that he wanted to slap off her face. “And more.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” He looked to his brother who was sitting on the bed.

“Dean,” Sam started, but Meg quickly interrupted him.

“I’m here so that the plan I’ve worked long and hard on doesn’t get screwed up.”

“Plan? What plan?”

“To bust us out of here and get us to where we really need to be.” Meg rolled her eyes, impatience clear in her expression.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“The other Sam and Dean have been working with Meg for some time on a plan to escape the demons,” Sam spoke up.

“And go where?” Dean narrowed his gaze on Meg.

“To angel territory.” Sam shrugged.

“Why would we do that? This place beats Hell, and no one is constantly hounding us to yes to possession.” Dean gave her a smirk, but didn’t miss the way Sam looked away and shifted his body on the bed.

“True, but I looked over Sam’s notes on the ritual used to send your cute little asses here and you can’t get that here.” Meg returned the smug smile.

“You told her?” Dean asked Sam who still wouldn’t look at him. “And why won’t we find it here?”

“Because the demons may have won the main war, but the ancient texts are all in angel territory. It’s a constant power struggle. Demons keep the angels weak by messing with their deliberate human breeding program and the angels keep the demons’ powers to a minimum by having all the spell books, texts, and most of the ingredients for major spells.”

Dean cursed under his breath, realizing she was telling the truth. He remembered no specific details, but somehow knew they were wanting to get away. Needing to. He looked at Sam again and remembered the scars littering his body. They weren’t from battle or fighting. They were from beatings and punishments, not all deserved because Azazel and Crowley knew exactly how to keep him in line. The one weakness he’s always had.

“Fine, what do we do?”

“Are you still the main entertainment tonight?” Meg asked.

Dean nodded.

“The two of you will put on such a show that will distract them so thoroughly we’ll have time to make our escape. But first we’ve got to make sure you two can convince them that you are the real Sam and Dean.”

“We are…” Meg waved Dean off and turned to Sam.

“What do you mean convince them?” Dean wasn’t feeling very comfortable with the knowledge seeping in of just how close they were to Meg.

Meg let out a sigh while Dean fought to keep his patience with her. “You’ve been here, what? Five minutes and you are still standing by the door. Poor Sam over here is sitting on his hands, practically scared to move, yet he’s desperately wanting to.”

“Your point?” Dean demanded.

“The other Dean would have walked in, ignored everyone, everything, and went directly to Sam. He would have touched him, kissed him, something to show his affection and dominance over Sam. By acting like you are now, you’ll end up being the main entertainment alright, but in a very different scenario.”

“Meaning us bound, whipped, and whatever sick games they are in the mood to play,” Sam said, his shiver obvious. Dean had a feeling Sam knew all about that.

“Hmmm, glad someone is tapping into that mind merge thing.”

“Hold up. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to fuck my brother in front…” Dean’s words got lost as his body slammed hard against the door. His vision blurred slightly as the breath was knocked out of him.

Sam stood and took a step toward Meg, but she stopped him with just her words. “Ready for round two, Sam?”

Dean watched as Meg walked up to him, her eyes becoming completely black. “Here is what’s going to happen tonight. You and Sam are going to play the perfect Dom and slave for Crowley and his perverted goons. You are going to dominate Sam, fuck him, giving them the show of their pathetic lives. Then while they are so busy getting off on their own, the three of us are going to walk out of here and never look back.”

“If we don’t play along?” Dean didn’t let the eerie eyes bother him one bit.

“Then I will escape and leave you here to your fates. Which won’t be very pleasant at all.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Sam took a step closer, his eyes shifting from Dean to Meg.

“While Crowley is playing frat boy mind games with the angels, Lilith and Ruby are closing in on him, cutting him off from his allies and he doesn’t even know it. That’s why we need to go now. We won’t get another chance before they make their move. Otherwise, Ruby’s prize will be Sam as her new toy and Dean’s head on a stake.”

“Jesus,” Sam muttered and met Dean’s gaze. “Is that what you want? To stay here and take our chances? Or maybe get out of here and try to find a way home.”

“What do you say, Dean-o?”

Dean’s jaw clenched. When would this nightmare ever end? His gut told him to get away. If what Meg says is happening, and Lilith and Ruby take over he would never be able to protect Sam from them. Never be able to get home again. But he didn’t know if he could do what Meg asked.

“What do we do?” he asked in defeat. Until another option came along, this was it.

Meg smiled. “Let’s start small. Come here, Sam.”

Dean watched Sam hesitate, but did as Meg said.

“Touch Dean,” Meg ordered.

“Sam.” Dean’s gaze glued to Sam’s rising, trembling hand. He didn’t know if he wanted the touch or not. The conflicted emotions roaring through him raked along his nerves.

“I’m sorry, Dean. But I want to go home and I’ll do whatever it takes to do that.” Those hazel eyes pleaded.

“Close your eyes, Dean.” Meg said, keeping him held tight against the wall. He had no place to go, no way to avoid either of them.

His lids lowered just as Sam’s fingertips made contact. He wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, but certainly not the explosive charge that shot through his system. It was like something deep inside unlocked and there was no way to stop the flood of sensations.

Sam’s palm laid softly over his heart. Surely his brother could feel the rapid beat that felt as if it would pop out of his chest. Dean didn’t struggle, scared to speak, scared to try and move.  With eyes closed he allowed himself a moment to feel.

“Remember his body,” Meg spoke softly.

Dean wasn’t sure if she was speaking to Sam or him, but his mind brought forth the image of Sam shirtless, arms bound above his head so taunt that it made him balance on his toes. The sight of his muscles straining and tight sent blood rushing to Dean’s groin.

Sam’s hand shifted and slowly became a caress across his skin. His other hand joined stroking flesh. Everywhere Sam touched Dean’s skin heated. His muscles twitched against the invisible demon hold as Sam’s fingertips slid down his arms. With clenched jaw, he held back a moan.

Dean jerked when those stroking fingertips brushed just under the waist band of his pants. His erection pressed hard against the material, wanting, no demanding attention. His breath became raspy as a hand moved further down, down.

“Fuck!” Dean groaned when Sam’s hand cupped his encased dick. He knew exactly what that touch would feel like without the barrier and he wanted nothing more than to have it at this moment.

“Kiss him, Sam.”

Dean was lost in the sensations rocking his body and mind. He had no control, held against the wall as Sam was free to touch and do as he pleased. It was aggravating and arousing at the same time.

Hesitant lips touched Dean’s. The contact was soft and quick. He licked his lips trying to get a taste. A tongue traced the path his own had taken. A shiver of pure desire shot through him as his mouth opened in a gasp.

Lips descended upon his and a tongue slipped into his mouth sending all coherent thought out the window. His senses took over. He tasted the mint tinged taste of Sam that he’s known for years. He smelled the heady musk of his lover’s scent. He felt the pressure of gentle hands cradle his face. The only comfort he’d had since…

 _Wait_ , his mind tried to shout, but Dean closed the door to the protest as the force holding him loosened, little by little so he could lean into Sam. His hands raised to touch the rough cheeks and stroke the unblemished skin. The one place they left unmarred.

Slowly the kiss broke and Dean looked into Sam’s eyes. Eyes that told him he was as lost to this world’s twisted lust as Dean was.

“Mine,” he muttered before making a swift movement, swinging Sam against the wall and pressing their bodies together. Sam whimpered and laid his head back on the wall, eyes closed. Dean’s lips kissed a trail down Sam’s slender neck, biting none too gently on his shoulder, marking him while a hand sought to cup Sam’s hard dick and gave a none too gentle squeeze. He shifted slightly and rubbed himself on Sam’s hip, enjoying the rough denim causing a little pain to take the edge off his need.

“Please,” Sam begged.

“Damn it, boys.” Meg’s voice deteriorated the world Dean had been able to create. “If that don’t convince Crowley, nothing will.”

Dean growled, reluctantly stepping away from Sam. His body buzzed and a part of him was kicking and screaming to keep going. But Dean…the real Dean felt sick to his stomach at what he’d just done. The way he’d taken control, rubbed against Sam…his brother. His mind and body restarted its battle.

“Fuck,” Sam cursed softly and raked his hands through his hair.

Meg chuckled as she went to a dresser. She opened the top drawer and withdrew an object. “You’re basically gonna have to tap into whatever you just did to fool those damn morons tonight.” She walked toward them as she spoke.

Dean stepped in front of her when she tried to make her way to Sam. He’s always been protective of Sam, but right now everything was on overdrive.

Meg held out her hands and Dean clearly saw what she’d grabbed. His gaze narrowed and body tensed to keep from gapping in surprise.

“Whoa. Down, tiger. Just thought Sam may need this for a little while as prep for tonight.”

Dean took the black butt plug Meg held out. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself speechless, stuck gazing at the silicone toy that sat in his palm

Meg chuckled as she pushed his jaw shut. “Just some friendly advice to get him ready. I’m at your beck and call if you need anything.” She turned and left the room.

Sam was the first to move, taking the butt plug from Dean. He cleared his throat. “Um, well, I think she’s right.”

Dean looked at his brother and felt a flush of heat wash over his face. “We are so screwed.”

Sam shook his head. “No, I’m so screwed.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

Sam couldn’t stop the tremor that shook his body. He was tired physically and emotionally. So much had happened too fast. Did these demons not realize that humans actually need to rest? Or maybe they just didn’t care.

Dean’s hand slowly stroked his hair. Sam couldn’t help but lean into the touch just a little.

“Is your pet well, Dean?” Crowley’s voice held no concern.

“He’s fine, Master. He’s still recovering from his earlier punishment, but nothing that will stop him from performing tonight.” Dean’s hand ran lightly down his back across the mostly healed wounds, making him jerk slightly before going back to petting his hair.

Sam was thankful for the small piece of comfort from Dean. His knees hurt from kneeling on the hard floor for too long. The leather pants he wore were a bit too tight for his comfort and felt too exposed being shirtless as well. Dean had placed metal shackles on his wrists that had a ten inch chain connecting them. Every movement made the heavy chain rattle and draw attention to himself, so he made sure his hands rested on his thighs and stayed there. Sam’s neck ached as well. As a slave he was expected to look down…the entire time unless his Master said otherwise. The additional thick metal collar with several D-rings didn’t make the process easier on Sam. But then he allowed his long hair to hang over his eyes and he found a spot on the floor very interesting as he tried not to think about the events about to happen.

Somehow in this world, though he and Dean were both slaves, Dean had managed to climb the ranks by the skill of torture. That shouldn’t have surprised Sam considering what Allister had said about Dean’s talent in that field during his time in hell. Yet, this world Sam had turned belly up and allowed submission to become who he was. Deep down he understood the submissive need, but refused to look at it now. Or ever.

Somewhere behind him, in the corner stood Meg watching over it all. As their personal slave, she was at Dean’s beck and call, which worked with the plan they had conceived.

After several more minutes of eating and drinking Crowley finally announced that the entertainment would begin.

Sam felt Dean stand and waited for him to tug on the leash attached to his collar.

“Up,” Dean commanded with a rough tug.

He did as he was told and tried to keep his head down, but couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering the crowd. Both men and women sat around small tables, all demons from the blackness of their eyes. Many had their own slaves kneeling beside them, some with little clothing, some nude, and most in some sort of chains or bondage. None looked up or even seemed to notice them.

Dean tugged the leash again and led Sam to the middle of the room. He stood in front of Sam holding his hands. He paused for a second while their eyes met. Dean didn’t want to do this. It was clear by his expression, as well as the regret shining in his eyes. Sam didn’t want to either, but neither had a choice.

His hands were lifted until the chain connecting the shackles was hooked far above his head. He dragged in a long breath as he waited for what Dean would do next. They hadn’t discussed what would happen during this time, both agreeing to let the alternate personas flow like it had earlier.

Dean laid a hand on Sam’s chest just as he’d done to Dean earlier. Their gazes locked and though Sam wanted to shout “No!” he knew if they were going to get out of this place they each had to play their role. Ironic that’s exactly what they were avoiding in their own reality. Determined to make their own destiny in the world.

Sam barely inclined his head, the action telling his brother to go ahead. He was ready.

He hoped.

There were some grumblings behind Dean where the crowd waited. Sam almost spoke, then decided to hold his tongue as Dean took another moment, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Meanwhile his hand started gliding over Sam’s chest and goose-bumps rose along the path. Sam focused on the touch and not on the people watching. He relaxed and allowed his body to take over.

Dean slowly walked around him, his touch never stopping as fingertips explored the dips and bumps of his flesh as if for the first time. Sam shivered. When Dean stood in front of him again, both hands caressed his chest, fingers pinching his nipples. The nipple play forced a groan from his throat and his eyes to close. Never in his life had he thought that someone squeezing his nipples would be…

Sam gasped and his eyes snapped open. The pleasure gone, replaced by pain. In place of Dean’s fingers was a nipple clamp. Before he could respond further, the other nipple was subject to the same treatment, making Sam hiss as the small chain linking them swung slightly, its weight felt as if there were ten pounds hanging from each nipple.

“Not a word, or I’ll gag you. Understood?”

Sam tried hard to focus on the words and not the pain. His body may be used to this treatment, but his mind wasn’t. Sam nodded.

Dean took the chain and pulled it outward causing Sam to whimper and try to step closer to Dean, but his shackled hands prevented the movement without harm to his shoulders.

“Yes, Master,” Sam quickly said. Apparently it was all right to answer though logically Sam would have argued.

Dean dropped the chain and walked to the back of Sam. The entire audience had a great view of him struggling to stay still. There was a conversation between a male and female demon nearby as to whether he should have been gagged.

His head was pushed forward so that all he could see were the device causing the discomfort. The position was difficult to hold as the edge of the steel collar pressed into his throat. Arms wrapped around his waist and he watched as fingers released the button to his pants then unzip the fly. Sam’s breathing became harsh, his heart pounding hard in his chest. As the leather pants were shoved over his ass and down his legs to be removed he chanted silently “This isn’t real,” over and over in his mind. The mumbles of appreciation and the heated air kissing his bared flesh said otherwise.

“Feet wider,” Dean ordered and lightly kicked Sam’s left foot out. He was helpless but to obey, glad he didn’t have to face their voyeurs in the eye. As soon as his feet were a little more than shoulder width apart, the hook holding his shackled wrists rose a couple of more inches making Sam lift on his toes to keep his balance.

“No cage?” Crowley’s voice was heard over the others.

“Sometimes simpler devices work the best, Master.” Dean said as he reached between Sam’s legs and fondled his aching balls.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut not wanting to see how his dick and balls were tightly wrapped in a long piece of leather. The leather served as a ball ring, but also wrapped the length of is dick leaving only the head visible and swollen. The humility and embarrassment Sam felt was substantial. To add to it, pain radiated from his throat, nipples, shoulders, arms, wrists, and now his calves and thighs were already starting to burn from standing on his toes, stretched as far as his body would allow.

His whole world was starting to be engulfed in pain.

The caress on his balls lightened then a finger ran between his legs and over his clenched ass cheeks. Hands once more began stroking his body, the touch petting more than just his skin, but something deeper. The pain slowly eased into pleasure as caresses relaxed and soft lips kissed sensitive area, as a hungry desire built.

Slowly Sam drifted, his mind no longer cared what happened, only that the sensations continued. He no longer minded an audience witnessed what his brother did to his body. He became a slave to feeling. When Dean pulled the chain to the nipple clamps Sam groaned, pleasure and pain becoming one. When the clamps were removed, Sam threw his head back and felt euphoria though his cock throbbed, begging for release.

After what seemed like an eternity of sensual torture, the hook lowered so Sam’s body could relax. As Dean removed the chain from the hook he helped Sam turn toward the right before kneeling on the cold floor because his legs no longer held him.

“Please,” Sam’s whispered plea was all he could get out.

Dean knelt beside Sam and lifted his chin with a hand. His other hand swept the sweat soaked hair from his forehead.

“You’re ok. It’s alright.” Dean spoke softly with each stroke to his hair. “We’re not done.”

Sam nodded, knowing these pervs would want more than just Dean making a horny, begging mess of him.


	8. Chapter 8

 

Dean stood, looking down at his brother. It was strange feeling both aroused and disgusted at the same time. But with a glance toward the back of the room at Meg, knowing she was their one chance of escape from this place and hopefully to a way to get back home, he pushed aside the repulse and allowed his alter persona lead the way.

Concentrating on Sam, Dean opened his pants and pushed them over his ass. He ignored the murmurs of approval around him. His dick was swollen and eager for some attention as desire flushed his system. He swept a hand through Sam’s hair before fisting some and pulling his head back. The angle made his lips part. His nostrils flared as he took in the sight of a dick so close to his face.

“Suck it,” Dean’s command come out gruff.

Not giving Sam a moment to hesitate, Dean took a step forward and placed his tip on Sam’s lips. As if second nature, Sam drew Dean in. They both groaned, making Dean clench his jaw to keep from busting his load right then and there. His fingers delved into Sam’s hair and controlled Sam’s pace, drawing it out for their audience.

“Fuck!” Dean growled as Sam’s tongue swirled around the head of his dick, flicking at its underside. Who knew Sam could do such wonderful things with his tongue.

Dean risked a glance in Crowley’s direction and didn’t care for the gleam in his eye or the way he licked his lips. Luckily, Crowley had brought one of his sex slaves with him, so hopefully he wouldn’t have to…

Dean gave that train of thought a mental shake, not wanting to think about “later”. It wasn’t only his skill in torture Crowley liked about Dean.  Instead, he focused on Sam and ending this with satisfactory results all around.

Unable to take much more, he jerked Sam’s head back, breaking the contact. Sam was practically purring, his eyes glazed as he floated in his sub space. Dean just hoped it made this next part easier.

“Stand up.” Dean took hold of the leash and none too gently pulled up. Sam followed, his head bowing, but not as low as before. He dropped the leash and walked behind Sam. His body was filled with a smoldering fire, wanting desperately to plunge deep into Sam’s body, dominating him, claiming him. A ferocious hunger clawed at him, demanding action, but he held back.

Reaching around him, Dean raked his nails across Sam’s tender nipples. Sam leaned back and made a noise that sounded like a mix between a hiss and growl. He took advantage of the closeness to kiss Sam’s neck, then nipped at shoulders already carrying evidence of his earlier assault. A constant shift between pain and pleasure to keep Sam off balance, yet responding.

Dean slowly guided Sam to take two steps to the large column near them. Dean’s body pressed firm against Sam and his dick nudged those tight ass cheeks.

He wanted to badly to bury himself deep and forget about demons, torture, deals, this entire world, but Dean held back. A part of him screamed about this being wrong. Not that it lowered his need any.

“I can’t, Sammy,” Dean whispered in Sam’s ear even as he used his teeth to tug at the lobe, unable to help himself.

“Dean, do it.” Sam’s breath puffed out harsh. “I…I want it.”

“Sammy.” His forehead fell to Sam’s shoulder, eyes closed as his body and mind fought.

“Please,” Sam whimpered and jutted his ass back. “Master.”

Something broke inside of Dean. He pulled back just enough to center himself before sliding smoothly into Sam’s ass. He watched Sam’s hands claw at the column and his expression of pain shift to ecstasy. It was an image of pure beauty, but his body’s demand distracted him too quickly to truly enjoy it, and thankfully to think about it.

Dean started with a slow pace, trying to savor the tight heat. He was actually glad at Meg’s suggestion to fully lube Sam before they left the room. The entire process would have ruined the mood they were setting for their audience, as well as cause Dean to overthink the entire situation.

Speaking of which, there were several moans and sighs to be heard other than theirs. Good sign they were inciting the lust they needed, yet he had to be careful with his timing, but his control was quickly slipping.

His grip on Sam’s hips shifted so he could go faster and harder. Each thrust dragged out a grunt. This sexual display was pure and simple natural animal carnality. Nothing gentle or romantic about this joining. Dean should feel bad about the abuse to his brother’s body, yet the need for release forced all sympathetic emotions deep into a pit.

Sam’s grunts turned to pleading whimpers, clearly telling Dean he couldn’t take much more. He reached around Sam’s hips to search for the dangling piece of leather that would release the pressure on Sam. Hearing the mix of hisses and whimpers stirring around them fanned Dean’s alter persona driving his need higher.

Finally, one tug and the leather loosened. “Now. Cum for me, Sam.”

Sam’s head fell back as he cried out. Dean let go and allowed his own much needed orgasm.

Together they slid to the floor on their knees, Dean slipping out, but he held tight to Sam, their sweat soaked bodies sticking together. He wasn’t sure exactly how long they kneeled in their euphoric cloud, but Crowley’s voice intruded Dean’s thoughts.

“Did I not tell you they were quite the show?” He sounded smug and Dean wanted to stab him. “Slave! Get your boys cleaned up and out of here.”

From his peripheral vision he watched Meg rush over to them. She helped Dean stand. His legs shook, but after a quick glance around to the amount of sexual orgies happening he was more than ready to get out of there. Dean pulled up his pants and fastened then while Meg helped Sam stand. He got under one shoulder while Meg ducked under the other. The trio started toward the door they’d entered.

“And Dean…” Crowley called out.

Dean paused and turned his head to the Demon King. “Sir?”

“Got a job for you first thing in the morning.” His lips curled in a smile that told Dean exactly what kind of job he had waiting on him.

A shiver ran down his spine, but Dean nodded. “Yes, Master.” If all went accordingly they would be gone within the next fifteen minutes and he’d never have to answer to Crowley again.


	9. Chapter 9

 

As much as Sam wanted to slow down, he kept pace with Meg and Dean as they made their way through some underground tunnels. As soon as they returned to their room, the three of them changed clothes, grabbed the bags Meg had stashed there earlier, and headed out. Meg took lead, taking them through some of the back hallways, those less traveled, and for good reason. Like most cities, there are sections filled with unsavory people. This part of the Castle, farthest from Crowley, was much the same. The worst of the worst, so to speak.

Unfortunately, the one demon that tried to stop them wouldn’t be causing any more problems for anyone. His and Dean’s fighting skills had truly surprised Meg. After dispatching the troublesome demon, Sam swore he saw a spark of hope in her eyes. Did she doubt their success of escape? Or maybe it was relief that she wouldn’t have to fight by herself should it come down to it?

After paying off a demon near the tunnel entrance she killed him using an angel blade.

“Did you have to kill him? And where in the hell did you get an angel blade?” Dean asked as he shoved the body into a nearly closet.

“No matter what I paid him, he would still rat us out. Trust me, no one will miss that sneaky little bastard.” Meg slipped the blade back into her sleeve. “And a girl’s gotta have some secrets.”

Sam wanted to speak up as Meg led them further away from the only life they remembered. Wait, no, that wasn’t right. He shook his head, trying to get his memories straight. He was still reeling from what had happened not twenty minutes ago. Dean had bound him, teased and tormented him, then fucked him after he’d sucked his brother’s cock. The entire experience was surreal, as if he had watched another person perform those acts, yet he’d felt every caress. Trying to analyze the entire experience became maddening.

“Are you sure about these blockers?” Sam asked, finally needing something else to think about. Right before they left their room Meg had put something on the inside of their collars.

“I haven’t personally tried them if that’s what you’re getting at, but what’s life without some risks?”

“Wait, you mean…” Dean started but Meg stopped abruptly and shushed him.

“Damn, they’re early.” She looked around, pushing them back until they found a small alcove. She pushed Sam then Dean in so they were covered by the darkness. She turned and ran a little further back the way they’d come.

Sam held his breath as he heard footsteps. He pressed hard against the rock wall, mindless of the sharpness cutting into his back. He took comfort when Dean settled back into him. They watched silently, breath held, as two men walked by. They’d been so engrossed in conversation they hadn’t even looked their way.

Breath rushed out once they passed, but he and Dean stayed put and listened. It felt like forever, but Sam was sure only a couple of minutes passed when Meg walked up.

“Let’s go.”

Wordless Sam followed Dean and Meg, occasionally looking behind them. They took several off shooting tunnels and he felt as if they were going in circles because everything looked the same. Just when he was going to ask if she knew where she was going, they came to a door.

“Ready?” Meg asked.

Sam looked at Dean before nodding. Fatigue was riding hard, but the spurts of adrenaline helped fight it off. There would be no giving up. He’d rest when he was either safe or dead.

“Okay, when I say go, you run straight out. Don’t look back, don’t stop until you get past the tree line, understand?”

“Uh, why are we running?” Dean asked.

“Hellhounds.” Meg smiled. “You won’t see them, but you’ll hear them and if they get close enough, feel them. They don’t care whose favorite human you are. They are trained to attack anyone not their master.”

“Wait, hellhounds?” Dean scowled. Sam didn’t miss the flicker of fear in his eyes.

“So what happens after the tree line?” Sam asked.

“Their collars won’t have the blockers like ours. We get to the tree line, we are home free. Still ready?”

Dean cursed, but nodded.

Sam knew they weren’t home free. They still had to deal with the angels here, but it couldn’t be worse, right?

He followed Dean’s lead by settling the bag straps across his torso so he could run mostly encumbered. They exchanged looks, Sam wishing he had something encouraging to say to his brother, but nothing came to mind. Nothing but survival. So he nodded and got ready to run.

Meg opened the door and looked around outside. The darkness of night covered the land and a breeze rushed through the opening. “See you at the finish line. Go.”

Dean went first, followed by Sam, then Meg took up the tail. Sam ran, feeling his muscles already fatiguing from their earlier strain, but he pushed on. He’d been chased by Hellhounds before and it hadn’t been a pleasant experience. They had no weapons to defend themselves and he refused to die in this reality. If he was going to die it would be taking down demons and angels in his own world, not by some demon mutt.

Halfway across the open field Sam heard the first howl. It was a ways off, but he knew better than most how quick they could move.

“Faster boys,” Meg cried out.

Every muscle in Sam’s body screamed and trembled with effort, but adrenaline kicked in and he pushed on. He saw the tree line and used that as his focus point.

A puff of smelly heat hit Sam’s back twenty feet from his goal. Its menacing growl was close enough to vibrate his chest. Sam swerved from the straight line he ran, did a little zigzag motion trying to put some space between him and the beast.

With the tree line steps away, just as he thought he was about to cross over, pain ripped across his left shoulder blade making him cry out and stumble. Positive he was a gonner, Sam still didn’t stop. Behind him an eerie cry sounded followed by soft whimpers.

“Sam!” Dean was there helping him farther into the trees. “We’ve gotta stop, Meg.”

“No, the Hellhound’s cry will draw attention. We’ve got to keep going.”

“Damn it, Sam’s hurt,” Dean said through clenched teeth. Sam knew that tone. Things were about to get ugly.

“Look, it’s just a little farther.” Meg softened her tone and looked at Sam’s back. “A claw ripped him up, but he won’t bleed out before we get there. Then we’ll get him healed.”

Dean looked like he wanted to argue, but even as tired as Sam was, he wasn’t going to be the weak link.

“It’s not that bad, Dean. Let’s just get to the rendezvous.” Sam tried to give him a smile, but he just didn’t seem to have enough energy.

Dean took his bag and walked on Sam’s right side as they continued.

“Who exactly are we meeting?” Dean asked. Sam was thankful for the question as he was wondering the same thing, but he didn’t want to use his energy talking.

“A small squad of angels that will get us to safety.”

“And they are alright taking a demon into their mists?”

Meg smiled. “Yeah, they’re fine with it.”

Before the conversation could continue Meg stopped and looked around. She whistled. That was followed by a sound Sam was familiar with.

Wings.


	10. Chapter 10

 

Dean stood ready for battle as four figures came out of the darkness toward them. He was still weary of Meg and her plan to get them to safety. She hadn’t told them about the Hellhounds, but then he wasn’t sure he would have agreed if she had.

“Meg,” The name was spoken by a raspy voice that Dean knew all too well. One of the figures moved farther out of the shadows and embraced the demon, their lips meeting in a hungry kiss.

Watching the moment in disbelief, Dean suddenly understood why the demon risked all she did to get here. “Cas?”

He watched as Castiel released Meg, took a step back before turning to where he and Sam stood.

“These are the Winchesters?”

The darkness made it hard to see his expression, but from his words he had never met this world’s Sam and Dean. It was disheartening and he wondered how different this Castiel was from theirs.

“Kind of,” Meg answered. “But we need to get out of here. One of the Hellhounds sounded an alarm. I’m not sure how long we have until they discover we’re gone.”

Castiel nodded and raised his hand to her throat. His hand glowed a moment before the collar opened and fell off her neck. He approached and quickly did the same to Dean, then Sam.

“You are hurt,” Castiel looked at the wound on Sam’s shoulder.

Sam nodded. “Hellhound got too close.”

“I will take Sam.” He looked at his companions still shrouded in the shadows. “Take the other two.” Castiel touched Sam’s uninjured shoulder and they were gone.

“Where are they going?” Dean demanded of Meg.

“No worries, Dean-o. You’ll be together again in a minute.” She winked at him as one of the remaining angels approached her, touched her shoulder, then they were gone.

“This will not hurt.” A female voice rose from the darkness and when he turned he was shocked to see Ana standing beside him. She gave a smile as she touched his shoulder.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean stumbled and arms wrapped around him to keep him on his feet. “There’s got be a better way.” His stomach churned, the disoriented world slowly righting itself.

“Are you all right?”

Ana spoke softly, her breath tickling his ear. He felt something akin to happiness since he had a great memory of her. But this wasn’t _that_ Ana. They never had beautiful, sensual sex in the back of the Impala, neither had she tried to kill his parents before they were born, that he knew of. Besides he was still trying to figure out if the angels were the good guys in this world, or just a different kind of bad, much like his own world.

“Yeah.” He pulled away, not wanting to remember how silky her skin felt or the small sounds she made when he made her come over and over. “Thanks, Ana.”

“How do you know my name?”

“Oh, uh,” Not knowing how to explain it, he started looking around for Sam. Dean found himself in a large room with only a long table surrounded by chairs. The walls were covered with maps and notes. Meg was walking toward the front of the room where Sam sat in a chair while Castiel healed him. 

That’s the direction he went, Ana trailing not far behind.

“Are you okay?” He stood in front of Sam, hands framing his brother’s face and looking into his eyes. Touching Sam suddenly had a calming effect to his overly sensitized body, as well as his emotions that were churning violently.  He knew as long as Sam was with him, he was good. They could do this.

“Yeah. It feels like Cas is healing everything.”

Dean let go of Sam but still left one hand on his undamaged shoulder and looked at Castiel. Though they looked similar this Castiel wasn’t wearing a trench coat. This one wore jeans, boots, and a blue denim shirt with its sleeves rolled up. There was also a scar that ran down the left side of his face.

When Castiel finished, he stepped back and let out a long breath. He turned to Meg who stood beside him. “There’s something different about him. His soul is…” His words trailed off, unfinished.

“Is what?” Dean demanded.

Castiel turned that same intense gaze on him. Some things do stay the same. “Darkened, and more. I don’t understand.”

“Yeah, about that.” Meg chimed in. “Apparently these two were taken from an alternate reality and smashed into our boys.”

Castiel cocked his head. “So these aren’t the Winchesters.”

“Yes and no.” Sam swiped a hand over his face. He looked as tired as Dean felt, but was glad that Sam took the reins as he told to story how they came to be in this demon run world. He’s a much better story teller.

“So you are looking for a reversal spell?” Castiel asked.

“Exactly. Then once we leave this place you should have _your_ Dean and Sam again, balance back on track and so forth.” It was weird talking about himself in third person.

“Sounds like it’s on the darker side of magic. It may take some time.” Castiel said, but was looking at Sam. “That doesn’t explain the darkness of his soul. A spell wouldn’t…”

The look Sam gave Dean about broke his heart. What had been forced upon him as an infant, along with all he had suffered through the years because of that one moment in time had left a strong mark on Sam in more ways than one.

“In our world Azazel tried to build an army. Or at least a powerful general to lead his army of demons. On the night of a selected infant’s six month birthday he would feed the child his blood.”

Meg gasped. “It worked?”

Dean’s gaze narrowed in on her. “After twenty-three years they started exhibiting powers. The weak ones were weeded out until there was just one.”

“I can’t believe it worked.” There was a light to her eyes.

“Then we killed Azazel and all the powers disappeared.” He wasn’t about to tell them about the strength demon blood gave Sam, or the addiction that came along with it. There were certain things that needed to be kept to themselves.

Meg’s expression turned from almost joy to sadness. “Father tried to do it here as well, but,” she looked away and Dean thought he caught teary eyes. “The children were killed when Crowley took over.”

Good, Dean couldn’t help but think, remembering those he’d met that Azazel had touched.

“You killed Azazel?” This time it was Castiel asking.

Dean shrugged. “It took us about twenty-four years, but yeah. He killed our mother and father, we killed him. It’s what hunters do. Kill the bad things.”

“Look, as much fun as it is to rehash our strange lives, can we continue this after some rest?” The circle under Sam’s eyes were dark as Dean was sure were his. They needed some sleep and maybe that would clear their minds more.

Castiel nodded. “Of course. Ana will show you to the room we prepared for you.”

Ana, who had stood by silent during the entire exchange shifted into their sight. “Follow me.”

She led them from the room down a long hall.

“Where exactly are we?” Sam asked.

“In the safety zone. I guess what was once Arizona. I can show you the compound later if you would like.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam gave her a quick smile and glanced at Dean. He could tell Sam was thinking about the Ana from their world and how well that turned out.

She stopped at a door and opened it. “You should have everything you require in there. If there is anything else you need, just pick up the phone.”

“Uh, thanks.” Dean walked in first and closed the door after Sam entered. He looked around, not sure how to feel. Were they safe?  Was this just another prison for them? Could they really trust these angels? Cas?

There were two full sized beds, a desk with some folded clothes on it and an open doorway leading to a small bathroom.

“I’m too tired to even get clean.” Sam walked to the nearest bed and practically fell on it face down.

Dean strolled around the room, taking note there were no windows, but there was a lock on the door. After engaging it, he turned off the light, but flipped the bathroom light on. He wasn’t ready to trust so easily.

Dean was about to climb into the second bed when Sam said his name.

“Yeah?”

“Will you…I don’t…” Sam sighed and cleared his throat. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”

Dean paused, feeling the same. Slowly, he went to the other bed and climbed in beside Sam, lying on his back. The moment he settled, Sam turned toward him and cuddled into his side. Pausing for a heartbeat, Dean shifted his position, lifting his arm and pulled Sam closer.

“Do you think we’ll get home again?”

“Yeah, we will.” At least Dean hoped.


	11. Chapter 11

 

After several hours of sleep, a shower, clean clothes, and food in their stomachs, Dean and Sam were more than ready to find a way home. Ana and Sam decided to sit in the library searching through books while Castiel took Dean around the compound.

“Okay, I get that the angels are limited here on Earth because you need permission to possess a vessel and something about bloodlines. But what makes us so special that you planned for months to get us away from Crowley?”

“You are Archangel Vessels. Your bloodline is rare.”

“And you know that as long as we are here, neither of us are saying yes to possession, right?”

“That’s not really why we need you.”

Dean stopped walking and stared at Castiel. The angel was so like their Cas by way of mannerisms and nearly detached tone of voice. Yet so different, his voice gruffer, his actions and speech confident, his entire leader aura. What had this angel experienced that his Cas hadn’t to make him the way he was? Dean hadn’t made up his mind which version he liked more.

“Why do you need us? The truth, Cas?”

Castiel’s head cocked the side. “Cas?”

“You, well, I guess you’re a friend of ours in our world. You pulled me from Hell itself.”

Castiel’s brow raised in surprise. “That would take a lot of power to do.”

“Apparently the angels thought I was worth it.” Dean shrugged it off, not wanting to get into how _he_ felt about being saved. “What makes us so special?”

“We need your DNA and blood. Our territory encourages human population growth and we take back a little bit of land as they grow. And yes, we encourage and arrange certain bloodlines to procreate, but we are hoping that your DNA will help with the human growth. Demons can’t possess Archangel vessels. The more we have, the less powerful the demons will be. It will take a while, but perhaps we can eventually win this war and get this world back to the way our Father created it.”

“You’re playing God, Cas. I can’t even begin to say how wrong this whole thing is.” Anger slowly simmered. Cas was saying that they wanted his and Sam’s DNA to create genetically altered humans that could hold any angel. All they needed were some brainwashing techniques, if they didn’t do it already, and they would all grow up saying yes to possession.

“This is war, Dean. We were created to protect human life, which is what we are doing.”

“No matter the cost, huh?” Dean blew out a breather and rubbed his neck. He hoped like hell that Sam found a way to get them back home. If he were to stay here, he didn’t think he’ let them take what they wanted. “Okay, they can’t possess those like us, but being enslaved by demons…or by anyone isn’t a joy either.”

“You do not approve.” Castiel stared at him.

“No, I don’t, but apparently the Dean from here does, or he wouldn’t have agreed to leave.”

“We’ve tried everything else, Dean. Every time we gain ground, the demons find a way to take more humans and we are set back.”

Knowing Dean couldn’t win his argument, he continued walking and Castiel caught up. The silence was thick around them..

“The Dean and Sam from here agreed to this?”

Castiel nodded. “But we will not be taking samples now, the way things are.”

“As I said before, you help us get home, you will have the non-demon blood or Hell touched samples you want.”

They walked further, Dean taking in the sights of humans and angels walking around like normal people, working, laughing, and living their lives. The entire compound had a peaceful feel to it. There were no slave collars or slaves to be seen.

“You said that you and I are friends. What about the other angels?”

“Honestly? They’re dicks. They want the apocalypse to happen and they don’t care about the humans at all.”

“But our order is to protect humans.” Castiel stated.

“Told you, dicks.”

Castiel looked confused but didn’t ask any more questions.

^^^^

“Are you sure these are the ingredients?” Ana asked looking at Sam’s list.

“As much as I can remember. The language they spoke was Enochian, though I don’t know what they were saying.”

“You know Enochian?” Doubt filled Ana’s eyes.

“I’m fluent in Latin, know a little Spanish, and have heard quite a bit of Enochian lately. I’m sure.” Sam turned another page of an old dusty book. This one was written in Latin, so he could read it and didn’t think it would be there, but in this world, one never knew.

“And you said both the angel and demon combined blood?” Ana turned pages to a thick, old looking book that she’d just pulled from a top shelf.

“We stood in circle with these symbols.” He sighed as he pointed to the paper he’d drawn on. They had been at this for a couple of hours now, giving him a headache.

“Could this ingredient have been this one?” Ana turned the book to show Sam.

“Grains of Paradise?” He read through the description with a shake of his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of it.” Inwardly he cringed. The herb was used to incite passion and lust. Had that been the ingredient that brought them to this particular reality?

“Maybe, just maybe. If this and maybe knot weed was combined.”

“Knot weed?” Sam had seen it on a website, but never seen it.

Ana chewed at her lower lip, her eyes scanning the shelves and shelves of books that lined every wall of the giant room. “I think I know this. Maybe. A long, long time…” Her voice dropped off as she slammed the book shut.

Sam watched her, seeing the tension in her body. Her gaze darted around the room,

“Yes!” She rushed over to a far corner and climbed the ladder. He watched as she moved books around, looking. With a black bound book in hand she climbed down with a smile. “This has got to be it.”

She dropped the book next to him and started flipping the pages, a bit more delicately with this volume. “It’s got to be the transposing spell in here.”

“And you would know that how?” Sam looked over her shoulder and didn’t see anything he could read.

“Because,” page turned. “I,” page turned. “am,” she flipped the page. “a type of record keeper.”

“A secretary?”

Ana looked up. “More what you would call a Librarian. At least since the war.” Her eyes went back to the book in front of her, turning page after page until she stopped. “Here.” She read off a list of ingredients, some Sam knew, others he didn’t.

“And?” Sam asked when she finished.

“I think we can do this.” She smiled.


	12. Chapter 12

 

“Meg agreed to help with the spell.” Sam said. He and Dean were lying on the bed together, Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around him. It was the only time he truly felt safe anymore. It was odd how much of himself had merged with the other Sam in his head in such a short amount of time. It scared him to think that perhaps deep in his subconscious that these unbrotherly feelings for his brother was already there.

“Castiel said they should have everything ready by sundown.” Dean’s fingers traced invisible symbols on Sam’s stomach.

Sam sighed, relishing in the comfort. They laid in silence, Sam lost in thought of the knowledge he’d gained of this world and wondered what they would remember when they got back home. Slowly Dean’s hands slid further down, fingertips lightly caressing right above Sam’s quickly hardening cock.

“Dean,” the name came out as a hushed whimper. He wanted Dean. As wrong as it was, he needed his brother in ways he never thought possible.

“God help me, Sammy, but I want you right now.” To prove his point, he pressed his own hard cock into Sam’s back.

“We shouldn’t.”

“I know.” But Dean kissed Sam’s neck. He could never resist the feel of Dean’s lips on his flesh. Wait, no, the other Sam was like that. Still, it felt good and he had a hard time saying no.

Dean shifted his body and pulled on Sam until he lay on his back, looking up into those familiar green eyes. Sam reached up and lightly caressed his brother’s scruffy cheek. Tired of analyzing everything, worrying about the ‘what ifs’, Sam pushed it all away. If the spell worked they would back where they belonged, surrounded by demons, angels, and monsters all trying to kill them. It was time to be a little selfish and take what little pleasure he could from the life he’d been dealt.

Dean took Sam’s wrists in his hands and lifted them over his head. “Grab hold of the headboard. Don’t let go, Sam. Understand?”

Sam’s stomach fluttered with anticipation. “Yes, sir.” The response came out breathy and automatic, as if he’d done it hundreds of times.

It was worth it when he saw Dean’s smile as his gaze traveled Sam’s body. Shirtless, it felt as if those eyes were caressing him, causing his breathing to hitch and his pulse race. His skin ached for Dean’s touch, goose bumps rising at the thought.

Sam watched as Dean’s trembling fingers slowly pulled at the waistband of his cotton sleeping pants. Lifting his hips, he tried to help as they slid from his hips and off his body. He lay there completely exposed and feeling a little vulnerable. It helped that Dean also removed his clothing as well before crawling back on the bed between his legs.

“This body knows every inch of you,” Dean’s brows drew together. “Even a part of my brain knows exactly how to push your buttons, but this still feels like the first time.” He raked his hand through his hair.

Sam smiled. “The second time, actually, but who’s counting?”

Dean’s sexy smirk sent Sam’s stomach flipping as he waited only slightly patient for his brother to get past the morality jitters.

His heartbeat stopped for a moment when Dean’s hands finally rested on his thighs. His face flushed hot when his dick reacted by twitching, as if saying “Hello, I’m here.”

A shocked gasp wretched from Sam when Dean leaned down and used his tongue to lap at his dick. The action was very surprising, but not unwanted. More so when the warmth of Dean’s mouth surrounded him. He groaned, his back arching as his hips pressed further in.

“Damn!” he panted. His lids tried to close, but Sam wanted so badly to watch Dean suck him. The sight was so arousing and unexpected. Sam realized that even though Dean was the dominant in this wacked out relationship, he was held to certain rules and expectations as well. No longer under demon scrutiny or the risk of being caught, he was free to do anything he wanted without worry of punishment.

Dean’s growl vibrated along every nerve ending in Sam’s body, nearly sending him straight off the cliff into climax. Especially when he added the tongue swirl around the head.

“Dean, wait. Oh, God, wait.” He didn’t really want it to stop, but if he wanted to last, yeah, he needed to back off.

Dean raised his head, confusion on his face.

“You have a fucking natural talent, Dean. But if you want me to last…”

Dean’s face lit up, single brow raised. “Who says I want that?” He lowered his head and went back to the seductive torture.

Sam braced himself, tried to think of other things, how they would stop Lucifer, football, hell, even the thought of Ruby didn’t deter his body from responding to Dean’s persuasiveness.

His fingers ached from holding on to the headboard.  He wanted so badly to reach down and push Dean’s head further down, to feel his hair under his palms, but he did as he was told. Letting his brother have this moment.

“Crap, Dean, I can’t…” That was it. He couldn’t hold on any longer. A rush of relief soared through his body as his load shot down Dean’s throat.

Before he had time to recover, Dean crawled up his body, straddled his shoulders and gently pushed the tip of his hard, swollen length between his lips. Sam eagerly opened his mouth and took it as deep as possible.

“So damn good, Sam,” Dean moaned as his hips rocked back and forth.

His mouth and tongue full and busy, Sam moaned his pleasure.

As much as Sam wanted it to last longer, finding he truly enjoyed pleasing his brother this way, Dean was ripe, ready to blow within minutes. He swallowed every bit of come, licking the shaft and tip before finally pulling away and releasing the headboard.

Dean fell to the side, his hands tugging at Sam until their bodies were snuggled close together. He took a moment to get his breath, a light sheen of sweat covered both of their bodies.

“What happens when we get back home, Dean?”

“I don’t know.” Dean squeezed Sam as if their bodies could meld into each other. “I wish the hell I knew though.”


	13. Chapter 13

Sam looked at the scene before them. The symbol on the floor was exactly as he remembered, candles placed appropriately, even the smell was familiar. Meg, Ana, and Castiel stood across the sigil ready.

“Do you think this will work, Sam?”

He blew out a breath before answering. “I hate to think what will happen if it doesn’t.” He looked at his brother, thinking about the night before. Would these feelings disappear once they left this world? Would they even remember their times together? If so, how would they move on? So much was uncertain, but he just knew as long as Dean stood by him, he could do just about anything. “Ready?”

Dean nodded and stepped into the sigil. Sam followed suit. Ana and Meg stepped forward. Ana said they had to do the spell in reverse and it should send them back to their world and leave them with the Winchesters they needed.

“I wish you luck,” Castiel said, keeping outside of the sigil.

Dean nodded. “Same to you.” Dean had explained Castiel’s plan about trying to produce more archangel bloodlines to battle the demons. Sam hoped it worked and was glad he wouldn’t be there to have to contribute the DNA to unknown amount of children. Since finding out their parents had been fated to be together to create the ultimate tools for an apocalypse, Sam decided that ending their bloodline with he and Dean may be the best bet for everyone’s future.

While Ana held the bowl, Meg cut her hand and bled into the bowl. In turn Ana did the same before starting the Enochian chant, the words slightly changed according to reverse the spell. She moved forward and used to blood to paint a symbol on first Dean then Sam before she and Meg backed out of the sigil.

The blood began to glow and Sam felt a pull, then pain. He leaned his head back, ready to scream when everything went black and there was silence.

His eyes snapped open to darkness as oxygen rushed back into his lungs. Quickly he sat up, then regretted it when his head throbbed and his arms tingled like they had fallen asleep. A sliver of light seeped in from a door and he heard another gasp next to him.

“Dean?”

“Sam?”

“Are we back?” Sam allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

“I hope so.”

Sam heard clothing rustle followed by a soft grunt. Their hands were still cuffed behind their backs. The demons had removed all their weapons before pushing them into the sigil, leaving them with no way to pick the cuffs. Or so he thought.

“Key hidden in the top of my boot.” Sam could hear the thrill in Dean’s voice and it would be a while before he would live it down.

Dean released Sam, then was grateful when Dean turned on a penlight. He aimed it at his watch.

“Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Sam started pushing to his feet, feeling stiff.

“According to my watch, it’s only been a few hours. It’s after eight in the morning.”

That baffled Sam. Only a few hours had passed when they had spent over seventy-two hours in the other reality?

“Okay, we can figure that out later. Now what?” It seemed they were in some sort of utility closet.

“Now we kick some demon and angel ass.” Dean used the light to see what surrounded them.

Voices could be heard in the other room and they quickly formed a plan. Using a piece of metal, Dean cut his palm, hissing at the pain. With his blood he drew a sigil on the door.

“Ready?”

Sam nodded. He felt energized and adrenaline pumped through his system wiping out the fatigue and soreness. He was more determined than ever to get revenge on this unexpected sect of enemies.

Dean threw open the door, Sam glad the group was confident enough they hadn’t secured the door, and twelve sets of eyes suddenly turned their way.

“We’re back.” Before anyone could react Dean pressed his bloody hand to the sigil and just over half the group burst into flames. That left just the demons.

Staying in the closet, in the protection of a devil’s trap they’d drawn with salt, Sam started the exorcism.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas.”

Three of the demons fell to their knees while soccer mom and another demon surged toward the closet.

“Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica,” The three that had fallen opened their mouths and thick, black smoke rolled from their mouths before the bodies collapsed on the floor. Weak, low level demons.

“Come out and fight you chicken shit,” soccer mom called just outside the trap. She had the demon knife in hand. The other demon wavered on his feet.

Dean attacked soccer mom outside the protection of the trap.

“Ergo draco maledicte et section,” Sam tried to continue but saw the second demon go after Dean.

Sam left his protection and grabbed an angel blade that had fallen on the floor. He rushed the second demon and managed to haphazardly stab the demon.  Not his most graceful kill, but it worked as they both fell to the floor.

From the corner of his eye Sam saw Dean get the upper hand on soccer mom who was overconfident in her moves. In a matter of seconds Dean had the knife in hand and then plunged it deep in her chest. Soccer mom’s skin lighted, flickering like a candle before she collapsed like the others.

Dean stood, breathing heavy. Sam watched as he wiped the blood from the knife on his jeans. A wave of desire for his brother slammed into his consciousness. He also remembered every touch, every kiss, every pain filled pleasure Dean inflicted on him…and craved more.

“No,” Sam whispered.

Dean whipped around, his stance ready for an attack. “What?”

Sam shook his head. Maybe it was just him. He wouldn’t put Dean through that. “Nothing.” He looked around. “Let’s get out of here before the angels come back.”


	14. Chapter 14

 

Dean sat on the cheap motel bed and watched Sam tap away on his laptop. They had driven all day, getting as far from the area as possible. They decided to lay low for a few days, not taking the risk of contacting Cas or Bobby just yet. They had spoken few words to each other since they left the warehouse, which was good because Dean didn’t want to talk about what he was feeling.

The entire ride he tried to tell himself what he felt, the desire that raged in his body wasn’t real. He didn’t want to see his brother bound and teased until he begged for release. He didn’t want to taste Sam’s cum or bury his cock deep in Sam’s body.

No, it was just residual from their wacky trip to that alternate world. Dean was sure it would dissipate.

When they were both too tired to go further, they ate at a greasy hole-in-the-wall diner and checked into a rundown motel near the edge of whatever town this was. The shower was hot, but Dean ended up switching it to cold as sexy images of Sam flashed through his mind. Not a pleasant way to get clean, but it helped.

“You going to take a shower?”

Sam looked up and rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah.” He closed the laptop, got up and went straight to the bathroom, closing the door. Dean didn’t miss the sound of the lock being engaged.

“This is so screwed up,” Dean mumbled. He laid his head against the headboard and closed his eyes just as the shower started. As if he’d watched Sam do it hundreds of times, Dean could clearly see Sam shed his clothes and step into the running water. The way the water sluiced his skin, over his scars… Dean shook his head. Thanks to a couple of healings from Cas neither of them had many scars, let alone the kind Sam had from floggings. Even those had faded considerably after Castiel healed his hellhound scratch.

Dean stood from the bed and paced the room. Though exhaustion beat at him, he was restless. He couldn’t stay still. His fingers itched to feel hair between them, palms wanting to feel heated flesh, and his ears ached to hear desperate pleas and sighs.

“Stop, stop, stop.” Dean pushed the heels of his hands to his temples. “I’m not him. We aren’t there. I don’t want this. I don’t need him.”

“But _I_ need you.”

Sam’s voice stopped Dean in his tracks. He turned toward the bathroom and what he saw made him gasp as his dick responded to the sight. Sam stood in the doorway, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his body, but what drew Dean’s gaze was the tented towel.

“I can’t stop thinking about the things we did, Dean. I want more of you. I crave your touch.” Dean saw his fingers gripping the doorframe until they were white, keeping him in place.

“This is wrong, Sam. Maybe there, because of how the demons twisted their relationship, it’s acceptable, but here…” He shook his head. “It can’t work. This…whatever we’re feeling will fade. Just give it time.”

“How can you be sure? It’s taking everything I’ve got not to kneel in front of you and…” Sam gasped and looked pained. “I don’t know what that damn spell did to us, but it’s not letting up, Dean. If feel like if I can’t touch you, have you, I might as well die.”

Dean felt the same. He realized his jaw ached from being clenched and his nails dug deep into his palms from his fingers being fisted. He knew if he took the first step forward he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

“What I want, Sammy, it’s not just sex.”

Sam gave him a sad smile. “I know. And I want to give it to you.”

Silence sat heavy between them as Dean tried to find a better argument, all the while his eyes feasting on the muscular chest, tight abs calling for his touch.

“Fuck,” Dean cursed and ran his hands through his hair.

“Exactly.” Sam let go of the frame and started forward, stopping right in front of Dean.

Their eyes locked and Dean could clearly see the want in them. Dean reached down and ripped the towel from Sam’s body.

“Turn around,” Dean said gruffly.

Sam didn’t hesitate and did as he was told. As Dean pulled the belt from his jeans, he was fascinated by the way Sam’s body trembled. Dean pulled Sam’s hands behind his back and secured his wrists with the belt. It wasn’t too tight, with enough time Sam could easily get out of it, but it was enough to calm the tremor.

“Turn back around, Sam.”

The moment Sam faced him, he used his hands to push on Sam’s shoulders. He easily lowered to his knees and looked up at Dean. Filling his lungs of oxygen, he slowly let it out as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down to his thighs.

Sam eyed the erection before him, licking his lips, but didn’t move, waiting.

“Suck me, Sammy.”

Dean watched as Sam opened his mouth and took all of him in with a moan. The vibration along his sensitive flesh almost sent him over the edge, but he quickly reined in control.

How Sam knew how to suck a dick so well, whether it was from his alternate self or just a hidden talent, Dean didn’t care, just relished in the feel of wet heat surrounding him.  But even as good as it felt, this wasn’t how he wanted to cum.

Threading his fingers through wet hair, he pulled Sam away. “Lube?” The word came out as a croak.

“In my bag.” It wasn’t something they talked about or looked in each other’s bags, but Dean was glad he had some.

Dean found it and followed Sam to the bed where he laid on his back. This first time together in this world, he wanted to watch every emotion that crossed Sam’s face.

As Sam spread his legs and lifted his hips, Dean liberally prepared the puckered ass. Putting the tube aside, he pushed Sam’s hips back to the bed. He knew lying on bound hands wasn’t comfortable, but the thought of being able to do whatever he wanted to Sam and couldn’t be stopped ramped up his need.

Slowly, he ran his nails over Sam’s thighs, feeling the goose bumps popping up. He took his time exploring as much flesh he could reach, teasing, pinching, caressing. He mixed a bit of pain and pleasure, watched as Sam’s desire rose higher and higher, until he was begging for relief.

When Dean lifted Sam’s legs to his shoulders and positioned himself at the waiting hole, Sam pressed his pelvic down.

“I need…” Sam panted.

“Tell me, Sam. What do you want?”

“You. I want you to fuck me. To fill me. To stretch me until I cry out. I need you to make me come.” The words fell out of Sam’s mouth like he’d been saying them his entire adult life.

Dean thrust forward and quickly embedding himself deep in Sam, who cried out and stilled. As he waited for Sam’s body to adjust to the invasion, he clenched his jaw, feeling Sam pulsate around him.

“So damn tight.” Dean reached out and tenderly stroked Sam’s stomach, soothing him.

It wasn’t until Sam started to move and whimper that Dean took as a cue to keep going. More gently, he withdrew some and pressed back in. The pace was slow, at first, but as discomfort subsided to pleasure it quickened.

“I can’t,” Sam begged. “I need to…”

Dean was at the end of his control as well. “Yes, come for me.” He grabbed Sam’s dick and pumped it once, twice, a third time before it exploded with a stream of cum. Dean’s own body followed suit as Sam’s ass clenched tightly on him.

Dean caught himself before his full weight landed on Sam. The movement caused him to slip out and as he rolled to the side and grabbed Sam, turning his brother so they could face each other.

They lay there several minutes, catching their breath, Dean trying to rationalize what they’d just done.

“Do you regret what just happened?”

Dean opened his eyes and looked at the man he’d sworn to protect. There was a lot of emotions going through him right then, but regret wasn’t one of them.

“No.”

“Me either.” His eyes lowered and stayed closed. Dean watched him, his expression go slack. A strange ache started in his chest. He loved his brother. There was no doubt in his mind. He’d gone to Hell for him, but this feeling was different. What they experienced together in this life and the other reality changed them. Changed their relationship in many ways. Whether these emotions stayed or faded one day, Dean knew his love for Sam would be more than just brotherly love. How it would affect them in this world, time would tell. Until then, they would deal with it like they did most things…together.

“You going to untie my hands?” Sam asked, his eyes still closed.

“Nope.” Dean lifted up and crawled over Sam so he spooned Sam from the back. “I kind of like them where they are right now.” He pressed his hips forward so Sam’s fingers could wrap around his dick. It was flaccid now, but he knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

Dean draped an arm over Sam and let his fingers play with the hair surrounding Sam’s dick, lying spent and coated with drying cum.

“All right.” Dean heard the contentment in Sam’s voice as his body relaxed.

As long as they were together, things would be okay.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Sam & Dean's adventure to another reality. Kudos and comments are always welcomed, both are encouraging for a writer.  
> Once more I thank angelus2hot for the awesome artwork and those at samdean-otp for hosting this mini-bang, which got me off my but and motivated me to write again. :)


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